SIDDONS 
An  Object  of  Interest 


PR 
5452 
S18  03 


AN   OBJECT   OF  INTEREST. 


%  faxcc.  —  In  one  ^rt. 


J.  H.  STOCQUELER,  Esq., 

AUTHOB  OP  •'POLKAMANU,"  "A  GOOD  NAME,"  "THE  SETES  CHAUPIOKS  OF 
CHKISTENDOM,"  ETC.  ETC. 


fFith  the  original  Casts,  Costumes,  and  all  the  Stage  Business. 


NEW   YORK: 
SAMUEL      FRENCH, 

132  Nariat   Strkct    '  Vr  8TAiBa.) 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA 


AN  OBJECT  OF  INTEEEST. 


SCENE  I.  —  A  Handsome  Chamber.     1  g. 
Enter  Mrs.  Veenon,  looking  over  a  book  of  fashions,  and  readinf, 

B.  H. 

Mrs.  Vernon.  "  The  cambric  or  muslin  under-sleeve  terminated  by 
a  single  bouillon,  moderately  full,  and  trimmed  with  a  Valenciennes 
lace  ruflEle,  falling  over  the  hand."  "The  corsage  is  still  worn  low. 
Velvets  are  more  a  la  mode  than  satins  ;  but,  the  choice  of  color  being 
limited,  the  complexion  of  the  wearer  must,  in  a  measure,  determine 
the  selection."  Well,  certainly,  relief  from  the  monotonous  "trap- 
pings, and  the  suits  of  woe,"  does  furnish  a  woman  with  a  pleasing 
employment.  Roving  amidst  the  endless  varieties  of  costume,  a  thou- 
sand agreeable  pictures  present  themselves  to  the  fancy.  If  we  can 
neither  buy,  nor  wear,  all  the  elegant  decorations  suggested  by  the 
modiste,  one  can  at  least  enjoy  the  luxury  of  imagining  how  one  would 
look  in  them. 

Enter  Fanny,  1  k.  l.  h. 

Fanny.  Please,  ma'am,  he 's  come. 

Mrs.  V.  Who  's  come  ? 

Fan.  Your  friend,  ma'am — the  gent  with  the  'starchers  — 

Mrs.  V.  'Starchers? 

Fan.  Yes,  ma'am  ;  them  Life  Guard  whisker  things. 

Mrs.  V.  0,  Mr.  Simmerton.  I  'd  no  idea  it  was  so  late  !  Bid 
him  come  up  ;  and  do  you  and  Barney  see  that  the  drawing-room  is 
in  order.  {Exit  Fanny,  1  e.  l.  h.) 

Enter  Mr.  Seumeeton,  l.  h.  1  e. 

Mr.  S.  Well,  beautiful  widow,  you  see  I  take  you  at  your  word, 
and  have  come  early  to  dinner.  How  enchanting  you  look  !  Divested 
of  the  solemn  suits  of  black  in  which  I  have  been  doomed  to  see  you 
shroud  your  charms,  you  cast  a  refulgence  — 

Mrs.  V.  0,  fiddle-de-dee  !  A  truce  to  hyperbole,  my  dear  Sim- 
merton ;  yon  are  come,  and  I  'm  glad  to  see  you —  {shake  hands)  — 
that 's  enough.  I  asked  you  thus  early  to  let  you  into  a  little  secret. 
My  late  excellent  husband,  whose  love  for  me  was  deep  and  boundless 
as  the  Southern  Ocean,  made  it  a  condition  of  his  ample  legacy,  that 
when  the  term  had  expired  during  which  respect  for  his  memory 


4  AN    OBJECT   OF   INTEREST. 

and  the  decencies  of  society  rendered  it  incumbent  upon  me  to  mourn, 
I  should,  if  I  felt  inclined  to  renew  in  the  society  of  another  the  hap- 
piness I  had  enjoyed  with  him,  I  should  — 

Mr.  S.  What? 

Mrs.  V.  Seek  out  his  oldest  friend,  Mr.  Marmaduke  Primrose,  and 
give  him  a  chance  of  offering  himself — 

Mr.  S.  But  you  surely  will  not  regard  — 

Mrs.  V.  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Simmerton ;  I  am  bound  by  the  ties  of  gi'at- 
itude,  to  say  nothing  of  legal  obligation,  to  observe  my  poor  husband's 
injunctions.  I  have,  therefore,  taken  advantage  of  the  presence  of 
Mr.  Primrose  in  town,  after,  I  am  told,  an  absence  of  thirty  years,  to 
invite  him  to  dinner  here,  this  day. 

Mr.  S.  Mrs.  Vernon  —  charming  Mrs.  Vernon  !  Eliza,  you  distract 
me!  What  if  he  should — (he  cannot  do  otherwise  if  he  has  eyes, 
senses,  a  heart)  —  I  say  if  he  should  be  captivated,  and  avail  himself 
of  his  privilege  — 

Mrs.  V.  Well,  sir,  and  if  he  should  ? 

Mr.  S.  Why,  then,  I  —  0,  but  you  surely  will  not !  — 

Mrs.  V.  It  certainly  is  very  obliging  of  j'ou  to  wish  to  take  the 
trouble  of  judging  for  myself  off  my  hands,  but  I  ihi7ik  I  am  yet  com- 
petent to  decide.  If  he  should  prove  a  personable  man,  an  agreeable 
man,  an  amiable  man  — 

Afr.  S.  {Dolefully.)  Then  you  — 

Mrs.  V.  {Mocking  him.)  Then  I  —  ha,  ha,  ha!  Don't  alarm 
yourself,  my  dear  fellow  ;  it 's  not  very  likely  I  shall  be  induced  so 
readily  to  change  the  sentiments  a  certain  simpleton  has  inspired 
me  with  ;  but  I  must  conform  to  the  letter  of  kind  old  Vernon's 
testament. 

Mr.  S.  Well,  my  dear  widow,  for  your  sweet  sake  I  will  endeavor 
to  restrain  my  strong  inclination  to  kick  the  fellow,  and  hope  that,  in 
consideration  of  my  forbearance,  you  will  abstain  from  liking  him  too 
much,  even  though  he  should  combine  the  form  of  Apollo  with  the 
manners  of — 

Mrs.  V.  Mr.  Sydenham  Simmerton  !  Ha,  ha  !  Well,  now  away 
•while  I  retire  to  my  apartment.  I  have  asked  the  Culverins  to  come, 
in  order  to  diversify  the  party  a  little  ;  and,  while  I  draw  out  the  mod- 
est Primrose,  you  can  encourage  the  female  Culverin  to  assail  her 
consequential  little  Major  with  the  explosions  of  her  wit.     Au  revoir. 

{Exit,  B.  H.) 

Mr.  S.   An  revoir,  fair  widow  !  {Exit,  l.  h.) 

SCENE  n.  —  A  Drawing-room;  folding  doors  ;  doors,  n.  1  e.  A 
couch,  h,  n.,  placed  diagonally,  with  bolster;  round  table,  with 
vases  and  books;  drawing-room  furniture  and  ornaments ;  two 
candles,  one  long,  the  other  short;  a  card  and  side  table, -R.n. 
Barney  and  Fanny,  b.,  discovered  dusting  furniture;  they  stand 
apart. 

Barney.   {Singing.)  "  At  Cork  lived  Miss  Molly  O'Rig, 

■\Vilh  a  nose  like  the  snout  of  a  pig; 
Long  carroty  locks,  and  ten  pounds  in  the  stocks, 
Was  the  fonuw  nf  Molly  O'Rig. 
O,  beautiful  Molly  O'Eig  I " 


AN    OBJECT   OF   INTEEEST.  6 

Fanny.  I  think,  when  some  people  are  alone  with  other  people,  they 
might  have  something  nice  to  say,  instead  of  singing  about  other  people 
which  is  unbeknown. 

Jiur.  Ah,  then,  Fanny,  mavourneen,  why  do  you  put  my  pipe  out 
with  your  side  winds,  and  your  you-know-endos  ?  Don't  singing  argufy 
a  clane  conscience  and  a  happy  spirit  ?  And  would  you  grudge  Barney 
his  peace  and  good  digestion  ? 

Fan.  Heaven  forbid!  It's  a  poor  heart  that  never  rejoices;  but 
.when  folks  pretend  they  loves  a  person,  they  might  behave  as  sich, 
and  not  be  running  their  Molly  O'Rigs. 

Bar.  Ah,  the  darlint !  Sure  it 's  neither  the  nod  nor  the  wink  that 
Barney  requires  to  tache  him  the  duty  and  sarvice  of  a  blind  horse. 
Ck)me  to  my  arms,  and  take  your  full  Avhack  of  the  honey  of  an  Irish- 
man's lips  ! 

Fan.  Barney,  no  !  It  is  the  privilege  of  our  sex  to  be  courted.  If 
you  've  anything  to  give,  you  can  come  and  give  it,  —  I  an't  a  going 
all  that  way  for  a  trifle. 

Bur.  Then  meet  me  half  way,  my  jewel,  or  I  '11  be  thinking  your 
love  is  all  for  yourself  {He  advances  a  little,  with  liis  back  towards 
her,  drawinij  a  chair,  ivhich  he  continues  to  dust.) 

Fan.  {Also  advancing,  with  her  back  to  Barxet.)  No  —  it's  not 
becoming  a  young  woman.  A  precious  forward  minx  you'd  think  me 
if  I  wei'e  to  be  at  your  beck  and  call  on  all  occasions. 

Bar.  {Still  movint/.)  Divil  a  bit !  I  would  n't  be  after  paying  my- 
self so  bad  a  compliment.     However,  suit  yourself 

Fan.  (Still  moviu//.)  Well,  I  am  suiting  myself.  I  am  a  queen  in 
my  own  little  way,  and  think  proper  to  remain  in  one  spot  ;  thus  — 
{(hey  suddenly  jostle  dos-a-dos)  —  hollo  !  0,  you  've  come  here,  have 
you  ? 

Bar.  Faith,  then,  it 's  yourself  that  has  shortened  the  distance 
mightily.     I  'm  only  half  way  there,  and  here  you  are. 

Fan.  0,  if  it's  disagreeable,  I  can  go  back,  you  know  ! 

Bar.  {Puttinf/  his  arm  round  her.)  Disagreeable!  Roses  and 
lilies  !  Tulips  and  cai'nations  !  Did  ye  ever  see  the  Irishman  that 
thought  it  unpleasant  to  have  a  pretty  girl  by  his  side  ?  0,  the  dar- 
lint !     {Kisses  her.) 

Fan.  O!  {Putting  her  hand  to  her  face.) 

Bar.  What 's  the  matter? 

Fan.  It 's  my  belief  yo>i  haven't  shaved  this  morning. 

Bar.  You  're  out  there,  my  jewel,  for  I  gave  myself  an  extra  scrape, 
by  raison  of  the  party  to-day. 

Fan.  0,  drat  tlicni  parties  !  they  alwaj-s  bring  extra  work  to  us 
servants. 

Bar.  That 's  true  for  you  ;  but  isn't  the  half-crowns,  and  the  shil- 
lings, and  the  bottoms  of  the  decanters,  a  nice  sort  of  compensation  ? 
And  don't  the  fine  talk  of  the  gentlefoliis  improve  the  mind,  and  tache 
manners  free  gratis,  for  nothing?  Och,  be  aisy  about  the  extra  work 
—  give  me  a  j'arty  every  day  in  the  week  ! 

Fan.  Every  one  for  himself;  for  my  part,  I  begin  to  hate  service 

in  any  shape  ;  it 's  the  same  thing  from   morning  till  night.     One 

might  as  well  be  a  cart-wheel  going  round,  and  round,  and  round  ; 

better,  indeed,  for  then  one  might  meet  with  a  stone,  or  rut,  to  make 

1* 


8  AN  OBJECT  OF  INTEREST. 

things  go  rougher,  and  more  comfortable.     Here  all  is  as  smooth  as  a 
bowling-green. 

Bar.  Old  Nick  fly  away  with  me  if  you  haven't  the  oddest  taste 
(barring  your  love  for  Barney)  I  ever  seed  !  I  suppose  you  'd  like  a 
few  misfortunes  to  make  you  happy  !  The  trouble  's  a  pleasure  to  you 
in  raal  right  down  arnest. 

Fan.  I  don't  know  about  misfortune,  but  I  should  like  some  sort  of 
excitement  —  something  to  make  me  a  hobject  of  hinterest. 

Bar.  On  my  sowl  then  I  don't  think  that  would  be  so  mighty  diffi- 
cult. Could  n't  you  smash  an  alabaster  vase,  accidentally  on  purpose, 
or  kill  the  lap-dog,  or  set  the  chimbley  on  fire  ? 

Fan.  Pshaw  !  that 's  ridiculous  !  I  mean,  I  should  like  to  be  sus- 
pected of  some  horrid  crime  unjustly.  I  've  been  reading  "  Susan 
Hopley."  I  've  seen  a  play  about  her,  too,  —  wasn't  she  a  hinterest- 
ing  young  woman,  neither  ?  Then,  there 's  the  Maid  and  the  Magpie. 
Would  n't  I  have  liked  to  have  been  the  Maid  ? 

Bar.  And  me  the  Magpie,  is  it  ? 

Fan.  To  be  wrongfully  suspected  of  picking  and  stealing ;  to  be 
persecuted  for  nothing  by  a  wicked  magistrate  ;  to  support  a  heavy 
father  in  a  black  cloak,  and  one's  innocence  to  be  proved  by  some 
spoons  in  a  belfry  ! 

Bar.  Arrah,  musha,  but  you  have  a  quare  foncy,  anyhow  !  If  I 
had  a  father  to  suppoi't,  I  had  rather  he  was  a  light  weiglit ;  and  as 
for  spoons  in  a  belfry,  while  there  's  such  a  lot  of  them  on  terra 
firma  ground,  I  don't  see  why  you  need  go  steeple-chasing  after 
them. 

Fan.  It 's  a  pity  some  people's  sense  an't  equal  to  their  wit,  —  they 
would  not  play  with  other  people's  feelings  as  they  do.  {Double 
knock,  L.  II.)  There,  there — run,  there's  the  postman  ;  drat  his 
knocks,  they  send  one's  heart  into  one's  mouth. 

Bar.  Faith,  a  lucky  man  he  must  be  to  move  your  heart  at  all  — 
that  same  postman.     It 's  what  I  could  never  do  for  the  life  of  me. 

{Exit  Bakney,  l.) 

Fan.  Ay,  ay  —  all  very  fine  words,  but  they  don't  make  a  lover. 
What 's  the  good  of  a  lover  as  sings  and  dances  ?  It  an't  worth  a 
woman's  while  to  keep  company  with  sich.  Give  me  one  whose 
heart  '11  soon  break,  whose  soul  is  rent  by  the  pangs  of  jealousy  ;  his 
an't  taxed  with  no  rent — he  an't  got  a  soul.  The  gentleman  as 
dined  here  t'  other  day  chucked  me  under  the  chin  as  he  took  himself 
out  of  the  hall  door,  and  gave  me  half  a  crown  ;  but  Barney  warn't 
jealous  —  a  unfeeling  wretch!  If  I'd  seen  anybody  chuck  Barney 
under  the  chin,  where  would  have  been  her  eyes,  I  should  like  to 
know?  I  'd  soon  have  dotted  them  eyes,  and  no  mistake.  0,  I  'm  a 
very  unhappy  young  'oman,  indeed  !  I  'm  no  hobject  of  hinterest  to 
anybo<ly,  and  I  've  got  a  sweetheart  as  can't  be  jealous.  {Bet/ins  ar- 
ranijinij  tilings  on  mantelpiece.)  What's  this?  La,  it 's  missusses 
emerald  ring;  how  it  sparkles  !  —  nobody  gives  me  no  rings.  How 
well  it  looks  on  my  finger  ! 

Bakney  reenters,  t. 

Bar.  Here,  Fanny,  it 's  a  letter  for  ynu,  with  something  hard  in  the 
middle  of  it.     {Gives  letter,  and  attends  to  furniture.) 


AN   OBJECT   OP  INTEREST.  7 

Fan.  LsLvrkl  (Takes  letter  aside.)  From  my  old  aunt,  Dumdria, 
with  a  sovereign  for  a  present  and  her  blessing.  I  '11  take  care  of  the 
first.  {Pockets  it.)  0,  a  splendid  —  now  for  it  —  a  splendid  idea! 
Barney  !     (Barney  still  rubbing.)     Can't  even  hear  me,  Barney  ? 

Bar.  Well,  darlint. 

Fan.    Should  you  like  to  know  what  was  in  the  letter,  Barney  ? 

Bar.  Yes,  if  one  can  get  at  it  without  the  inconvenience  of  reading, 
^.ccomplishments  was  limited  at  my  school  —  go  on. 

Fan.  (Hangs  her  head.)  I  don't  like,  exactly  —  it 's  a  confidential 
matter.  Barney,  you  know  the  gentleman  that  paid  me  the  little  del- 
icate attention  at  the  hall  door  ? 

Bar.  Delicat«,  you  call  it  ?     Why,  the  feller  that  chuck  — 

Fan.  That 's  it.  That  ere  gentleman  has  sent  me  a  love-letter, 
full  of— 

Bar.  Ah  !  flames  and  big  hearts,  and  little  boys  sitting  by  a  fire, 
without  a  superfluity  of  clothing. 

Fan.  No,  no  ;  more  than  that  —  a  ring  ! 

Bar.  0,  mui-der  !  —  cum,  cum,  you  're  playing  oflFyour  nonsense. 

Fan.  Look  here  and  be  convinced.     {Shows  ring.) 

Bar.  0,  the  divil !  there's  an  expensive  profligate, — there's  a 
prodigal  villain  !  How  can  poor  Barney  hope  to  preserve  a  woman's 
heart,  when  it 's  tempted  in  this  way  !     0,  murder  !  what,  a  ring  ! 

o,  0, 0 : 

Fan.  0,  how  nice  !  he  's  actually  jealous.  I  never  felt  so  comfort- 
able in  all  my  life  ;  s'pose  now  he  should  murder  me  with  the  sofa 
pillow,  like  the  black  man  — 

Bar.  Fanny,  Fanny,  the  divil 's  running  after  you,  but  1  '11  hold 
him  back  !  0,  Fanny,  it 's  lucky  you  've  got  such  a  friend  as  poor 
Barney,  or  I  blush  to  think  what  would  become  of  you  !  That  bad 
man  seeks  to  captivate  you  with  a  false  show  of  splendor,  but  thus  I  '11 
break  the  chain.  (He  snatches  the  ring  from  Fanny  and  throws  it  out 
of  the  window.) 

Fan.  O,  good  gracious  !  —  what  have  you  done  !  — why,  it 's  miss 

—  no  —  I  won't  undeceive  him  !     I  must  run  out  instantly  and  get  it 

—  {crosses  to  l.) — no,  hang  it,  here  's  missus  !     {Both  begin  to  be 
very  busy.) 

Enter  ]Mrs.  Trevor  Yernon,  r.  ii. 

Afrs.  V.  What,  are  you  still  here ?  (FAyyir  makes  a  movemeyit  to 
go  out,  crosses  to  L.,  Mrs.  Vernon  stops  her.)  Why,  it  wants  but  five 
minutes  to  seven  —  and  seven  's  the  dinner  hour. 

{During  the  following  six  speeches,  Fanny  inakcs  several  attempts  to 
leave  the  room,  but  Mrs.  Vernon  signs  to  her  to  remain.) 

Bar.  (r.)  Ah,  but  you  know,  ma'am,  people  comes  half  an  hour 
after  they  're  axed.  They  never  trusts  to  the  punctuality  of  the  cook. 
And  can't  be  talking  upon  empty  stomachs. 

Mrs.  V.  {Looking  round,  crosses  to  table.)  These  candles  won't  do, 
Barney  —  don't  you  see  one  is  much  longer  than  the  other  ? 

Bar.  Upon  my  conscience  then  I  don't  —  I  see  that  one  ia  shorter 
than  the  other. 

Mrs.  V.  Well,  and  what 's  the  difierence  ? 


8  AN    OBJECT    OF    INTEREST. 

£a7\  Ah  —  then  it 's  not  for  the  likes  of  me  to  know  better  than 
you,  my  lady. 

Mrs.  V.  Well,  go  and  change  them  at  once.  {Exit  Baknet  with 
liffhts,  h.)  And  now,  Fanny,  come  and  help  me  to  dress.  I  left  my 
ring  on  the  mantelpiece. 

Fan.  O.Gemini!     {Aside.)     King,  ma'am? 

Mrs.  V.    Yes,  ring  —  my  emerald  ring. 

Fan.  I  don't  see  it,  ma'am. 

Mrs.  V.    No  !  —  are  you  sure  ? 

Fan.  Quite  positive,  ma'am.  {Aside.)  I  must  stick  to  that. 
{Assuredly).  Yes,  ma'am,  quite  sui-e.  I  don't  see  it  now,  and 
I  haven't  of  course  set  eyes  on  it  since  you  last  had  it  —  how 
should  I  ? 

Mrs.  V.  Well,  then,  where  can  it  be?  I  thought  it  was  there. 
{Fanny  hangs  her  head,  and  turns  away.)  I've  —  eh?  Can  it  be 
possible  ?  I  'm  half  alarmed.  0,  mercy  !  Is  it  possible  I  have 
thieves  in  the  house  ? 

Baunex  reenterinr/  with  liffhts,  l.,  goes  to  c. 

Bar.  Thieves  in  the  house  !  Och,  murder  !  —  let  me  be  at  them. 
Is  it  in  the  cellar  they  are  —  or  under  the  beds,  ma'am  —  or  up  the 
chimbley  ? 

Mrs.  V.  0,  no,  no,  no  —  woi'se  than  that.  I  fear  that  they  stand 
in  this  very  room. 

Bar.  Is  it  the  candles  again  ?  Divil  a  thief  do  I  see  in  either  of 
them,  then. 

Mrs.  V.  Do  not  presume  to  jest,  sir.  I  have  lost  a  ring,  and 
those  who  should  know  something  about  it  affect  ignorance  uj^on  the 
subject. 

Bar.  By  my  soul,  then,  it 's  not  myself  that  knows  or  afiFects  any- 
thing about  it,  or  any  other  ring,  but  th:it  dam —  {bell  rings  l.  h.). 
0,  yes —  there  's  one. 

Fan.  ^'    }(roi'c^/i'''--)  Wliere? 

Bar.  Sure,  at  the  door  —  and  it 's  myself  that  'II  answer  it. 

{Exit,  L.) 

Mrs.  V.  Provoking  blunderer  !  Again  I  ask  you,  Fanny,  can  you 
give  me  a  clue  to  my  lost  property  ? 

Fan.  {Still  turning  away.)  IIow  should  I,  ma'am?  {Aside.) 
Lord  !  I  'm  actually  becoming  a  hobject  of  hinterest,  like  the  young 
'oman  in  the  play.     I  rather  like  it. 

Mrs.  V.  Look  me  in  the  fice — full  in  the  face  —  neither  pre 
■varicate,  nor  equivocate  —  but  answer  me  directly.  AVhere  is  ray 
ring? 

Fan.  {TVho  has  7voved  round  gradually,  looks  up.)  Where?  0, 
don't,  ma'am  —  don't  look  at  me  with  tliem  eyes  !  Spare  me  —  spare 
me  your  unjust  suspicions.  I  am  innocent  —  yes,  tlie  heavens  above 
witness  tli.it  I  am  innocent.      {Ttieairi rally.) 

Mrs.  V.  AVell,  I  don't  positively  accuse  you  —  I  only  ask  you  if 
you  know  where  my  property  is.  Tell  me  tlie  truth  at  once,  witliout 
reserve. 

Fan.    0,  ask  me  not  !      Have  pity  upon  a  miserable  maid,  and 


AN    OBJECT   OF   INTEREST.  9 

don't  aggravate  feelings  as  is  wouuded.  0,  that  I  should  live  to  be 
suspected,  after  bringing  a  good  character  from  my  last  place  ! 
{Trying  to  cry.) 

J\i  s.  V.  But  I  don't  suspect  you  —  at  least,  I  don't  wish  to  suspect 
you. 

Fan.   {Quickly.)  0,  yes  you  do,  ma'am  —  you  think  that  I  am 
guilty  of  the  crime  of  highway  robbery.      In  your  mind  you  have 
accused  me,  and  sentenced  me  to  transportation  to  Botany  Bay  for 
,  fourteen  years.     You  are  the  mistress,  and  I  am  the  innocent,  perse- 
cuted maid ! 

Mrs.  V.  Well,  if  instead  of  a  plain  answer,  I  am  treated  to  these 
heroics,  I  fear  I  must  thinls  you  IJnow  move  of  my  loss  than  you  care 
to  confess.  (Il nocking,  l.  h.)  But  there's  no  time  for  investiga^ 
tion  —  come  and  dress  me,  for  I  declare  some  one  has  arrived. 

(Exit,  E.) 

Fan.  Now,  my  wisest  plan  would  be  to  go  into  the  street,  and  pick 
up  the  ring.  But  when  did  Susan  Hopley  do  anything  wise?  No,  as 
I  have  got  a  good  case  of  hevidence  against  me,  and  the  support  of 
internal  hinnocence,  I  '11  keep  as  I  am.  The  Maid  and  the  Magpie 
did  n't  look  a  bit  more  guilty  nor  me.  And  how  delightful  to  be 
proved  hinnocent  by  a  bii-d  flying  in  at  the  window,  with  the  ring  in 
his  beak  !  I  could  n't  have  believed  missus  would  have  done  me  so 
much  injustice —  but  since  it  is  so,  why  I  may  as  well  let  things  take 
their  course.  {Bell  rings,  c.  r.)  That 's  her  bell.  I  'm  a  coming  : 
though  wronged  most  cruelly,  to  the  last  I  '11  be  a  faithful  servant. 
( Theatrically. )  ( Exit,  R. ) 

Barney  zishers  in  Mr.  Primrose,  l.,  ivho  is  in  a  court  dress,  with 
sword,  L.  II. 

Sar.   {Snuffs  candles.)  Mrs.  Vernon  will  be  down  directly. 

{Exit,  L.) 

Prim.  Thank  ye  —  thank  ye  kindly.  Don't  let  her  hurry.  {Look- 
ing about. )  And  so  this  is  the  residence  of  the  widow  of  my  old  school- 
fellow, Vernon.  AVell,  he  seems  to  have  left  her  comfortably  provided 
for,  at  any  rate.  What  a  time  it  is  since  Ave  met !  —  thirty-five  yeai-s 
at  least.  He  was  packed  olY  to  tlie  Ivist  Indies  as  a  guinea  pig,  after 
leaving  school  ;  and  I  to  the  Old  JLmor  House,  at  Mudlecum  Spindle, 
wliere  I  have  vegetated  ever  since,  lait  of  the  viwy  of  the  wide  world. 
It  's  very  kind  of  Vernon  to  bcque.ith  me  his  widow,  but  I  don't  feel 
much  inclined  to  change  my  condition.  I  shall  only  keep  to  the  form 
of  the  thing,  and  pay  her  my  respects,  and  release  her  from  her  obli- 
gation. My  visit  is  lucky  in  one  respect,  at  all  events.  This  emerald 
ring,  which  I  picked  up  by  the  door,  will  serve  well  to  set  me  off  at  the 
levee,  if  I  'ra  forced  to  advertise  it  afterwards. 

Barney  enters,  shouing  in  Mr.  Simmerton,  l.  n. 

Bar.  Mr.  Simpleton  Simmerton. 

Mr.  S.  What,  fellow  ? 

Bar.  I  beg  pardon,  sir,  if  I  'm  wrong  in  my  pronouncement ;  but 
people  will  have  such  odd  names  now-a-days,  there  'a  no  remembering 
tnem.  (Exit,  l.) 


10  AN    OBJECT    OF    INTEREST. 

Mk.  Simmertox  bows  to  Mr.  PraMROSE,  r. 

Prim.  Same  to  you,  sir —  same  to  you.  (Aside.)  We  arn't  been 
introduced  yet,  but  these  London  chaps  are  always  impudent. 

Mr.  S.  Charming  weather,  sir. 

Prim.  Is  it?  I  only  wish  yoii  had  spring  sowings  to  look  to,  you 
would  n't  make  such  a  damned  foolLsli  reniaik  to  a  farmer. 

Mr.  S.  Sir,  I  spoke  in  reference  to  the  absence  of  rain. 

Prim.  Ah  —  I  thought  you  talked  of  summat  you  did  n't  under 
stand. 

Mr.  S.  (^.siV/c.)  This  seems  a  queer  sort  of  person  for  a  fixir  wido'vy's 
suitor.  AVhat  can  ho  be  doing  in  that  court  dress  and  sword  ?  I  nevei- 
beheld  sucli  a  guj'  in  all  my  life.      {Laughing.) 

Prim.  What  's  he  laughing  at,  I  wonder  !  It 's  a  turn  off,  I  suy 
pose,  after  the  rap  I  gave  hiui. 

Mr.  S.  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

Prim.  {Turning,  and  going  close  vp  to  him.)  Well,  if  you  come  to 
that  —  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  !     I  can  laugh  as  well  as  you. 

Mr.  S.  Excuse  me,  sir  ;  but  you  are  irresistible — the  peculiaritj 

—  the  oddity  of  your  costume  —  your  ensemble  —  ha,  ha  ! 

Prim.  Well,  and  what  have  you  got  to  say  against  it  ?  Can't  I 
come  up  to  London  on  a  deputation,  but  I  'm  to  be  sniggered  at  ? 

Mr.  S.  Forgive  me,  I  really  mean  no  offence  —  but  it  is  so  unusual 
to  see  a  gentleman  in  a  court  dress  and  a  sword,  excepting  at  a  fancy 
ball,  that  I  can  only  suppose  you  wear  them  for  the  amusement  of 
your  friends. 

Prim.  (),  do  you  ?  Well,  I  can  tell  you  that  you  're  just  out  there, 
young  chap.  I  've  put  them  on  (they  're  feyther's,  you  understand, 
who  's  dead,  and  left  them  to  me),  because  I  was  told  it 's  usual,  when 
country  gentlemen  come  up  to  London  on  state  matters,  to  sport  this 
kind  of  toggery. 

Mr.  S.  True  —  but  they  usually  doff  it  when  they  leave  the  pres- 
ence. Let  me  conjure  you  not  to  expose  yourself  to  the  ridicule  of  Mrs. 
Vernon  and  her  visitors.     It  is  perfectly  grotesque. 

Prim.  AVell,  I  dare  say  you  know  best  ;  but  what  am  I  to  do?  I 
live  a  long  way  from  here  —  I  can't  go  back  to  the  inn  and  change  in 
time  for  dinner. 

.Mr.  S.  At  any  rate  take  off  the  sword  and  conceal  it.  It  is  abso- 
lutely outre. 

Prim.  Well,  .sir  —  well,  I  .s'posc  I  mu.st.  Plague  take  tlie  buckle, 
it 's  so  tight  !     There  —  it 's  off  now  —  Avhere  shall  I  put  it  ? 

Mr.  S.  0,  hide  it  somewhere  till  you  go  away. 

Mrs.  V.  {Without,  k.)  Well,  I  insi.st  upon  its  being  looked  for 
and  found  ! 

Prim.  She  insists  n\v.>n  its  being  found  I 

Air.  S.  Slic  means  something  else.    Here,  quick  — put  it  behind  th' 

—  no — here,  here — under  t!ie  ."^ofa  ]»illow.     (Mn.  Primrose  put* 
sword  nhder  bolster  of  sofu,  ivitli  the  hilt  projecting.) 

Mr.s.  Vernon  enters  n.,  1  e. 

Mrs.  V.  Ah,  my  dear  Mr.  Simmcrton,  I'm  delighted  to  see  yoo, 
Mr.  Primrose,  I  believe.     {Crosses  to  him.) 


AN    OBJECT    OF    INTEREST.  11 

Prim.  Yes,  madam,  at  your  service — purely  glad  to  see  my  old 
chum  Vernon's  ■widow  looking  so  blooming. 

Jlfrs.  V.  You  have  come  up,  I  see  by  the  papei's,  on  public  busi- 
ness. 

Prim.  Yes,  madam.  All  in  our  parts  are  in  a  l;ad  way  about  these 
railroads,  so  we  've  come  up  to  scold  Home  Secretary  a  bit.  There  's 
Bumble,  and  Snacks,  and  Withers,  who  keep  tiiree  hotels  on  the  main 
road  to  Bucksley;  and  Doh£on,aiid  Hookey,  the  coach  proprietors;  and 
Blingsby,  who  has  a  power  of  pott-hoi'ses.  They  '11  be  ruined  by  these 
uew-faugled  schemes. 

Mr.  S.  A  most  disinterested  body,  truh'.  But  how  are  you, 
affected  ? 

Prim.  Why,  they  all  buy  hay  and  corn  and  oats  of  me  ;  and  ye 
know  rail  trains  dou't  eat  !  Steam  engines  have  no  stomachs,  and, 
besides,  I  'lu  proprietor  of  the  houses  thej'  occupy,  which  'uU  all  be 
vacant  if  the  road  be  done  up  —  so  like  a  good  patriot  I  've  joined  the 
opposition. 

Mrs.  V.  Then  of  course  your  arguments  were  irrefragable,  and 
the  Secretary  listened  to  you  ? 

Prim.  Did  he  ?     Dom'd  if  he  did  n't  larf  at  us  ! 

Enter  Bahn'et,  l. 
Bar.  Major  and  Mrs.  Culverin. 

Enter  Major  and  Mrs.  Culverix,  l.     Exit  B.-iKXET,  l. 

Mrs.  V.   My  dear  Mrs.  C,  this  is  so  kind  of  you,  and  the  dear 
Major  too —  (crosses  to  him)  —  to  come  so  far  to  visit  a  lone  widow. 
It 's  an  age  since  we  met.     {The  Major  bows  solemnly.) 
Mrs.  C.  Ah,  my  dear,  it 's  quite  a  mercy  we  are  here. 
Mrs.  V.    Good  gracious  I  —  what  can  have  happened  ?    You  alarm 
me  ! 

Mrs.  C.   Just  as  the  coachman  — 
Mrs.  V.    Yes. 

Mrs.  C.    Had  closed  the  door,  after  we  had  gone  in  — 
Yes  —  0  ! 

Away  went  the  horses,  down  Baker-street  — 
Good  heavens  ! 
Along  Oxford-street  — 
Mercy  ! 

To  the  Regent  Circus  — 
Yes. 

Mrs.  C.    As  hard  as  they  could  tear. 
Mrs.   V.    What  in  the  name  of  mercy  did  you  do? 
Mrs.  C.    Clung  to  the  Major  — 
Mrs.  V.   Yes. 

Mrs.  C.    Pale  with  affright — (I  must  have  looked  a  horrid   pic- 
ture) —  and  utterly  speechless  — 
Mrs.  V.    Did  n't  you  scream  ? 
Mrs.  C.   No  — 

Mrs.  V.  0,  I  should  have  put  ray  head  out  of  the  window  and 
screeched  murder.     And  what  did  the  Major  ? 


Mrs. 

V. 

.Mrs. 

c. 

Mrs. 

V. 

Mrs. 

c. 

Mrs. 

V. 

Mrs. 

c. 

Mrs. 

V. 

12  AN    OBJECT    OF    INTEREST. 

Major.  Sat  calm  —  unruffled  —  resigned  —  0,  ah  I 

Mrs.  C.  Did  you  ?  It  was  the  calmness  of  fear.  You  were  aghast, 
like  myself.     It  was  a  case  of  double  paralysis. 

Major.    0,  hah  !  hum  ! 

Mrs.  V.    Well,  and  then  — 

Mrs.  C.  Then,  when  I  thought  we  were  on  the  brink  of  perdition, 
somebody  stopped  the  horses,  and  we  were  saved  ! 

Mrs.   V.    What  a  miracle  ! 

.Major.    Was  it  not  ? 

Mr.  S.  Mrs.  Culverin,  I  reallj'  must  apologize  for  not  answering 
your  invitation  fur  last  Monday — I  was  away.  Bob  Snifl'kins  pro- 
posed a  week's  fishing  at  Twickenham  ;  so  down  we  went,  and  have 
done  a  bit  of  piscatorial  ever  since. 

Major.    I  envy  you  —  charming  pastime,  calm,  tranquil,  dignified 

—  dib  —  bob  —  splash ,  eh  ? 

Prim.  Pleasant  !  For  my  part,  I  never  hear  of  a  man  angling,  but 
I  think  of  wliat  the  old  dictionary  chap  said.  "  A  stick  and  a  string, 
a  worm  and  a  "  — 

Major.  Sir,  I  execrate  Dr.  .Johnson's  memory  for  that  very  obser- 
vation. 

Mrs.  C.  And  therefore  Major  C.  revenges  himself  by  disregarding 
the  laws  of  orthography.     He  spells  pliilanthropist  with  an  F  ? 

Prim.  Well,  and  how  else  would  you  spell  it,  I  should  like  to 
know  ? 

Oinnes.  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

lict'iilcr  Barney,  c. 

Bar.    Dinner  is  on  the  table,  ma'am.  {Exit,  0.) 

Mrs.  V.  Mr.  Primrose,  j-our  arm  —  Mr.  Simmerton,  will  you  take 
Mrs.  Culverin  ?  —  Major  will  bring  up  the  rear. 

{Exeunt  Omiics  in  order,  through  door  injlat,  C.) 

After  a  pause  — 
Fanny  enters,,  with  her  hair  dishevelled,  R. 

Fan.  They  are  gone,  and  here  I  may  give  way  to  sorrow  without 
interruption.  {Sits  down.)  Such  is  missusses  —  years  of  honesty  ia 
forgotten  in  a  moment  —  kind  service  and  obliging  tempers  is  set  down 
for  notiiin'.  H<iw  often  I  might  have  removed  a  lace  handlvcrchief,  or 
a  brooch,  and  did  n't.  Hnw  dftcn  I  might  have  pricked  missus  out  of 
malice,  and  never  did  notiiin'  of  the  .sort  —  aud  now — {tryimj  to 
weep)  —  because — bee — bee — cause  a  trumpery  ring  is  not  found  in 
a  minute,  I  'm  to  be  pointed  out  as  a  thief — a  common  felon  —  ray 
goo — 00 — nod  name  blasted  —  my  old  do — do — ating  father's  white 
liairs  carried  in  sorrow  to  the  griivc —  my  mo — o — ther's  heart  shiv- 
ered into  nothin'  —  my  lover  !  Ah!  dare  I  name  liim  ?  {Theatri- 
cally )  Dare  I  harbor  a  thought  of  Barney  Larrigan,  in  this  degraded 
state?  0,  no,  no,  no,  no  —  will  no  tears  come?  {liubbint/  her  eye.) 
No,  dry  as  a  cinder.  'T  is  despair  !  I  know  it  —  see  it — hear  it  — 
feel  it  —  smell  it.      I  '11  go  mad  —  I  '11  take  pison  —  ha  !     I  am  mad 

—  mad  as  the  lady  in  the  play  —  {acts  madness)  —  what 's  that  ?     I 
hear  a  bell—  a  little  tiny  tinkling  bell.     'T  is  the  muffin  man  —  no  — 


AN    OBJECT   OF    INTEREST.  li 

'tis  a  flock  of  sheep  on  Primrose  Hill  —  see,  the  flowers  is  a  nodding 
at  me  —  the  heath-bell  and  the  poppy  is  a  smiling  !  Ila,  look  there  !  — 
my  lover  in  black  tights.  What  means  that  look?  lie  frowns  —  he 
laughs  —  away  —  away,  give  me  pison  —  pison  !  {Falls  back  onto 
the  couch,  and  rolls  off  on  to  the  ground.) 

Enter  Barney,  with  a  glass  of  wine,  on  tray,  c. 

Bar.  Hist !  Fanny  dear,  where  the  divil  are  yez?  Why,  what 's 
all  this?  Is  it  ill  ye  are?  0,  I'll  be  running  for  the  doctor! 
(  Going,  L. ) 

Fan.  {Seizes  his  coat-tail.)  Stir  not  —  move  not.  Do  you  —  can, 
you  love  me,  Barney  ? 

Bar.  Can  I?  —  sure  don't  you  know  that  you  are  the  sole  and 
entire  possessor  of  every  bit  of  me  that 's  left  in  the  shape  of  a  heart  ! 
Och,  jewel  !  — it  's  myself  that 's  doating  on  ycz.  But  what 's  the 
matter?  Are  ye  in  a  high-strike?  Here  's  a  dlirop  to  comfort  ye  — 
I  poured  it  out  myself  at  the  sideboard,  and  slipped  away  while  they 
were  laughing  at  the  quare  little  man  from  the  country. 

Fan.    Speak!     Is  it  pison  ? 

Bar.    Pison!     0,  yes — the  temperance  people  call  it  so. 

Fan.  It  is  then  pison.  I  thank  thee,  beloved  Barney.  I  bless  the 
hand  that  thus  rescues  me  from  the  shame  and  disgrace  of  a  felon's 
death.  {Seizes  the  glass  and  goes  down  on  her  knee.)  Heaven  for- 
give me,  as  my  innocence  is  beknown  to  me.  {Drinks.)  'T  is  Prus- 
sian acid.  It  works  through  all  my  veins  —  I  feel  the  glow  of  the 
pisonous  liquor  —  it  mounts  to  my  brain,  and  in  a  few  hours  I  shall  be 
a  cold  body,  with  twelve  gentlemen  a  sitting  on  me.  Verdick  —  Tem 
porary  Sanity. 

Bar.    By  my  soul,  I  don't  know  where  they  '11  find  room. 

Mrs.  V.    {Without,  c.)  More  lights. 

Fan.   0,  gimeny  —  here  's  missus  ! 

Reenter  Mrs.  Trevor  Vernon  and  ]\Ir3.  Culverin,  c. 

Mrs.  V.  Bless  me,  Fanny,  what  do  you  do  here?  {To  Mrs.  C.) 
Wretched  girl!  a  prey  to  remorse  —  she  is  oblivious  of  her  duties. 
Leave  the  room,  and  make  yourself  tidy  to  bring  in  coflee.  (Fannt 
theatrically  points  to  Mrs.  Vernon,  then  points  upwards,  slaps  her 
bosom,  and  rushes  out.) 

Mrs.  C.    Dear  me,  what  can  she  mean  ? 

Mrs.  V.  I  really  don't  know,  unless  a  conviction  of  guilt  oppresses 
her.  I  have  lost  a  ring,  and  she  has  given  me  reason  to  suppose  tliat 
she  knows  more  about  it  tlian  she  cares  to  confess.  But  never  mind 
her,  tell  inc  how  you  like  my  friend  Mr.  Prin)ro^^e. 

Mrs.  C.  Very  well  at  a  distance.  The  simplicity  of  his  conversa- 
tion micrht  be  endurable  if  his  manners  were  less  uncoutli.  He  posi- 
tively asked  me  to  take  wine  three  times,  and  called  for  jwrter  with 
his  cheese  ! 

Mrs.  V.  Poor  man  !  He  is  little  used  to  good  society.  I  must  take 
him  in  hand  and  civilize  him. 

M-s.  C.    And  so  you  had  a  long  ramble  among  the  shops  to-day  ? 

Mrs.  V.    Yes  —  but  very  few  interest  me. 
2 


14  AN   OBJECT   OF   INTEREST. 

Reenter  Major  Cclverin,  Mr,  Simmerton,  and  Mr.  Primrose,  o 

Mrs.  C.  For  my  part,  all  the  shops  which  exhibit  articles  of  female 
attire  have  attractions  for  me.     I  seldom  miss  one. 

Major.  No,  unfortunately  ;  you  always  enroll  yourself  among  the 
customers  of  the  most  expensive. 

Mrs.  C.  Well,  my  dear,  you  would  not  have  me  pay  so  empty  a 
compliment  to  the  productions  of  industry,  as  simply  to  gaze  and 
admire. 

Major.   0,  ha  !  —  hem  ! 

Prim.   I  admire  your  sentiment,  madam. 

Major.  Yes,  it 's  all  very  well  for  you  to  applaud  the  sentiment, 
who  have  n't  got  to  pay  the  bills. 

Reenter  Barney,  with  coffee,  l.,  followed,  by  Fannt,  with  bread  and 
butter,  etc.,  etc. 

Mrs.  V.   You  must  find  much  to  admire  in  London,  Mr.  Primrose. 

Prim.  I  rather  think  1  do.  Why,  there 's  more  wealth  in  one  of 
your  streets  than  in  all  the  world  put  together.  I  don't  believe  there 
can  be  a  poor  man  in  London. 

Mrs.  C.  Ah,  sir,  you  are  grievously  mistaken  there.  Society  in  this 
country  is  like  a  glass  of  water —  clear  to  the  naked  eye,  and  agreeable 
to  the  unvitiated  palate;  but  once  subjected  to  the  microscopic  scrutiny 
of  the  philanthropist  or  the  philosopher,  it  is  found  to  swarm  with 
hideous  animalcuUe. 

Mr.  S.  You  have  affirmed,  madam,  a  melancholy  truth,  of  which 
our  leading  men  are  beginning  to  be  sensible.  The  time  has  at  last 
arrived  when  the  existence  of  poverty  and  wretchedness  is  admitted  to 
be  a  "  great  fact  ; "  and  legislators  are  more  bent  upon  the  timely 
prevention  of  crime,  thin  its  punishment. 

Prim.  Ah,  let  them  try  ns  they  will,  they  will  never  prevent  crime. 
{Taking  coffee  of  Barney.)  People  icill  steal.  {Taking  bread  and 
butler  of  F.\.nny,  r.,  who  shrinks  from  him.)  Eh?  {She  again 
offers  it.)  I  say,  people  will  steal,  treat  them  as  you  may,  and  you 
7nust  hang  'em  if  you  find  'em  out. 

Fanny   drops   the   tray,   Barney   drops   the   other.      She  faints   in 
his  arms. 

Bar.  {Jlppronchinrj  her.)  Och,  Fanny,  d.irlint,  lave  this  talk,  and 
come  to  the  buzzum  of  your  protector  !  Ye  never  did  anything  that 's 
wrong  from  the  niinit  yez  was  born.  I  '11  swear  an  alibi  for  ye  —  I  '11 
give  ycz  a  carrackter  —  I  '11 —  0,  come  along  ! 

Fan.  O,  don't,  I  implore  you  —  don't  let  me  die  the  death  of  a 
manufacturer.  {Exit  Barney,  bearing  Fanny,  r.) 

Mrs.   V.    Well,  I  'm  sure  ! 

Mrs.  C.  My  dear  {to  ^LvJOR),  I  think  we  had  better  depart. 
{Takes  his  arm  and  crosses  to  l. )  The  presence  of  company  must  be 
disagreeable  to  Mrs.  Vernon,  in  the  present  state  of  her  domestic  estab- 
lishment.    Good-night. 

Mrs.  V.  I  really  am  quite  distressed  at  all  this.  Good-night,  Mrs. 
C., — good-night,  Major.      I  hope  wc  shall  meet  again  soon.     Good- 


AN   OBJECT   OF   INTEBESI.  1$ 

night,  Mr.  Simmerton.     (Aside.)     Come  back  in  half  an  hoar,  and 
hear  the  result  of  the  visit. 
Mr.  S.    Good-uight. 

All  bid  adieu  in  the  usual  fashion,  and  exeunt,  i.     As  Simmeeton  is 
going.  Primrose  crosses  behind  to  him. 

Prim.   I  say,  how  shall  I  get  my  sword  again  ? 

Mr.  S.  Really  I  cannot  assist  you  —  but  I  dare  say  you  will  have 
no  difficulty  about  it.  {Exit,  l.) 

Mrs.  V.  {After  bowing  out  the  others,  comes  up  to  Pei.mrose.) 
Good-night  ! 

Prim.  Eh!  0,  good-night.  {They  boiv  to  each  other,  but  he  does 
not  stir.)    I  shan't  go  without  my  sword,  though.      {Aside.) 

Mrs.  V.  {Aside.)  Now  for  some  fearful  declaration  of  love  !  I  hope 
he  has  found  nothing  attractive  in  me  !  I  must  bring  matters  to  a 
crisis.  You  have  a  considerable  distance  to  go,  I  believe?  {Aside.) 
Good  gracious  !  how  like  that  is  to  my  ring  ! 

Prim.  Yes,  it  is  rather  far  —  but  I  don't  much  mind  that,  now  that 
I  've  done  my  duty.  I  thought  it  right  to  do  my  old  friend's  last  bid- 
ding, and  having  seen  you  — 

Mrs.  F.  *  Yes,  sir,  having  seen  me.  {Aside.)  It 's  very  like  my 
ring  ! 

Prim.  I 'd  rather  not  —  you  understand  me?  Don't  be  offended 
wi'  me.     I  'd  rather  not. 

Mrs.  V.  {Aside.)  ♦'For  this  relief,  much  thanks."  I'm  sorry 
that  it  should  be  so,  Mr.  Primrose — but  since  it  is  so,  good-night. 
{Curtseying  low.)     {Aside.)     Is  n't  he  going? 

Prim.  You  gave  us  rather  a  nice  dinner  to-day,  ma'am.  I  don't 
know  when  I  have  eaten  so  much  at  a  sitting. 

Mrs.  V.  O,  pray  don't  say  so.  I  am  glad  you  enjoyed  yourself  — 
it  was  but  widow's  fare. 

Prim.  And  the  wine,  too,  was  capital.  {He  gradually  sidles  toW' 
ards  the  couch.) 

Mrs.  V.    0,  really  !    {Aside.)    Vulgar  fellow  —  I  wish  he 'd  go. 

Prim.  {Aside.)  I  wish  she  'd  go  out  of  the  room,  or  look  the  other 
way.  {Aloud.)  You  look  a  little  tired,  after  entertaining  us  all. 

Mrs.  V.  1  am,  a.  little.  {Aside.)  I  hope  he'll  take  that  hint. 
{She  sits  down  r.  of  the  table.) 

Prim.  I  'm  rather  tired  myself.  {Sits  down  L.  of  table.)  Suppose 
I  can't  do  anything  for  you  in  the  country  ? 

Mrs.  V.  Thank  you  —  nothing.  Do  you  leave  town  immediately  ? 
{Turns  and  observes  him.)  {Aside.)  How  very  strange  !  —  that 
ring,  too  ! 

Prim.  Yes  ;  after  I've  settled  a  small  matter  of  business  here,  I 
shall  go  by  post-chaise,  for  I  never  will  patronize  a  railway. 

Mrs.  J''.  Indeed!  {Aside.)  0,  why  don't  lie  go?  I 'm  getting 
quite  sleepy — ya — a — w.     {Rises,  and  goes  to  sofa.) 

Prim.  { Sitting  twirling  his  thumbs.)  It  's  just  tive-and-thirty  years 
come  next  Michaelmas,  since  I  was  last  in  London.  IIow  the  town  has 
changed,  sure — ly  I  Everything  's  changed  !  Gas  is  come  —  and  Re- 
gent's Park  —  and  the  National  Gallery  —  and  the  Chinese  Collection 
—  and  a  whole  power  of  fine  places  —  and  where  's  the  Old  Royal  Ex- 


16  AX    OBJECT   OF    INTEREST. 

change  —  and  the  Armory  in  the  Tower  —  and —  {Aside.)  I  declare 
she  's  dropping  asleep  !  {la  a  drowsy  tone.)  Ah,  the  Tower  —  and 
Fox  and  Pitt.  Boney  was  living  then  —  and  there  was  some  fun  going 
on  over  the  water,  to  fill  London  Gazettes  with.  I  remember  how  the 
horns  used  to  go  blowing  second  editions,  and  the  Courier  was  always 
to  be  had  wet  as  anything  —  and  claret  was —  {Looks  round  and  sees 
Mrs.  Vernon  asleep.)  jYow  I  shall  get  'un.  Here  's  the  handle  all 
out  —  now  for  it.  {He  bends  down,  seizes  the  hilt,  and  (jently  draws 
the  sword  out  of  the  sheath.)  Huzza!  I've  got  it — I've  got  it  ! 
Hollo  !  where  's  the  scabbard  ?  I  've  only  half  done  the  business.  I 
hope  she  won't  wake  —  no,  still  sleeping — snoring  a  little. 

Fanny  enters  c,  her  hair  again  dishevelled. 

Fan.  {Speaking  at  the  back.)  I  wish  missus  would  go  to  bed  —  I 
could  go  down  and  have  a  Imnt  for  tliat  ring.  My  gracious  !  what  's 
that  man  doing  with  the  sword  in  his  hand  ?  0,  here  's  a  to-do  —  why 
murder  's  a  doing  !    0,  my  !    {She  crouches  down  behind  the  couch.) 

Prim.  {  IFho  has  been  devising  various  means  for  getting  at  the 
scabbard.)  Now  I  have  it ;  and  if  I  can  only  escape  with  it  before  she 
wakes,  I  am  all  right.  {He  leans  over,  seizes  the  scabbard  with  his 
left  hand,  flourishing  the  sword  with  his  right.)  Now  lor  it.*  0,  crikey! 
{His  foot  slips,  and  he  falls  on  Mrs.  Vernon  —  she  jumps  xip  and 
screams.  He  starts  —  Fanny  rushes  forward,  and  seizes  him  by  the 
throat  and  sword  arm,  and  pushes  him  against  the  wing.) 

Fan.    Murder  !  murder  ! 

Mrs.  V.    Murder  !  murder  ! 

Prim.   Murder  !  why  you  're  mui-dering  rac.     I  'm  choking  1 

Barney  enters  with  a  poker  and  a  light,  R. 

JBar.  Och,  murder  in  Irish — what '.s  the  row?  AViiere  the  divil 
are  they?  Let  me  get  at  'cm.  {Flourishing  about  with  the  elevated 
poker.)     "Where  's  the  thief  of  tlie  world  '! 

Fan.   Here  ho  is  —  I 'vc  got  him. 

Bar.    Get  out  of  that  till  I  break  his  head  with  the  poker. 

Enter  Mn.  Simjierton,  l. 

Mr.  S.    Heavcn.s  !  what  do  I  see?     What  is  all  this? 

Prim.  { Tries  to  rush  to  the  door.)  Clear  tlie  way  ! 

Bar.   Divil  a  bit. 

Fan.  No,  I  have  3'.ou  fast  —  1  .-nw  your  intention,  and  have  prc- 
ventc'd  murder. 

Mrs.  V.    Generous  gii-l  !  liow  can  I  pay  this  noble  devotion? 

Fan.  {Theatrically.)  Talk  not  of  rcuoiiipeiise  —  restore  me  to  your 
favor,  and  cease  to  tliink  me  the  guilty  one  —  guilty  one  !  But  can 
it  be?  {Looking  at  Primrose's  /j/f^f)-.)  It  ia — Innocence  lias  tri- 
umplied  !  Behold  the  ring  !  {Snatches  it  from  his  finger,  and  at 
the  same  time  snatches  his  sword,  which  she  wares  triumphantly.) 
This,  ma'am,  is  your  ring  —  look  at  it,  and  remember  how  you  used 
me  —  but  —  {sobs)  —  I  —  I  —  I  —  forgive  you.  Barney,  "We  may 
be  happy  yet."      {Rushes  to  his  arms.) 

Prim.  Well,  now  my  windpipe  is  free,  and  I  have  the  power  of 
telling  a  word  or  two,  you  '11  —  phew  —  perhaps  let  mo  explain. 


AN'    OBJECT   OF   ISTEEEST.  17' 

Fan.  Proceed,  miscreant !  Even  the  guilty  have  a  right  to  be  heard. 
{Still  holding  the  sword,  she  motio7is  the  rest  to  silence,  and  assumes 
an  appearance  of  diyaiiy.) 

Prim.  "Why,  I  came  with  a  full  court  dress  and  sword,  as  I  thought 
proper  and  coi-rect.  Mr.  Simmerton  made  me  liide  the  sword  (it  was 
my  father's  dress  sword),  and  I  could  n't  get  it  without  your  seeing  and 
laughing  at  me.    ( To  SniMEUXON.)    Did  n't  you  tell  me  to  hide  it  ? 

Mr.  S.   The  fact  is  indisputable. 

Prim.   As  for  the  ring,  I  found  it  in  the  street, 

Mrs.  V.  My  ring  in  the  street  —  how  could  it  get  there  ? 

Bar.   Ring  in  the  street  —  why  —  sure  it  's  the  — 

Fan.  (JVudi/ing  him.)   Not  a  word. 

Mrs.  V.   The  — what? 

Bar.  The  oddest  thing  in  the  world,  that 's  all  I  can  say  about  it. 

Mrs.  V.  Well,  I  hnvc  it  again,  and  we  may  let  the  matter  drop. 
As  for  this  ludicrous  mistake,  I  scarcely  know  whether  I  should  apol- 
ogize to  you,  Mr.  Primrose. 

Prim.  Suppose  we  split  the  difference,  and  make  no  apologies  at 
all  —  none  are  necessary. 

Fan.  0,  yes,  there  is  an  apology  necessary;  let  me  say  a  word  to — 

Mrs.  V.  {Stopping  her.)  What,  have  you  not  attracted  sufficient 
attention  already  1     Do  you  want  to  get  up  another  scene  ? 

Fan.  Yes,  to-morrow,  if  I  can  obtain  leave.  If  they  think  I  am 
sorry  for  what  I  have  done,  they  are  tee-totally  mistaken — unless 
you  disapprove  of  it  ;  and,  as  I  hope  you  don't,  I  shall  find  a  way  to- 
morrow evening  to  do  the  only  thing  I  care  about  doing  —  the  making 
myself  ^«  Object  of  Interest  to  you. 

B.  Mr.  S.,  Fanny,  Barxet,  Mrs.  V.,  Mr.  Primrose,  u 


CURTAIN. 
2* 


SPEEDY   BINDER 

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~~~    Stockton,  Colif. 


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